Wednesday, 31 October 2012

It's Hallowe'en but an exorcism won't be necessary. As the last in the maternal line I've inherited the family portraits going back almost three hundred years & there's long-dead ancestors giving me disdainful looks from the walls in every room in the house.

Nice but hideously dim, bet he wouldn't have been capable of tying his own shoelaces.

This bloke was a member of the clergy, he'd probably spontaneously combust at our godless lifestyle.

Bet she wouldn't have enjoyed backpacking around India or getting down & dirty at Glastonbury.

This one looks like a right old cow. Bet she's horrified by my unmarried, voluntarily childless state.

I even wear dead people's stuff. This is Great-Great Grandma Alice wearing the same brooch 130 years before me.

This was her locket.

An obsession with massive silver jewellery must be a family trait.

There's a fashion for calling it "curating" but I'm not one for poncy labels, I'm just a hoarder, plain and simple.

When this box slid off the top of the wardrobe this morning I took it as a spooky sign that it was crying out to be featured on my blog. I used to roller skate round the block wearing this over 40 years ago. What an odd child I must have been. Mind you, there's a red wine stain from when Mum wore it to the pub, such disrespect, Mary must be turning in her grave.

How freaky that I'm the identical size and height to my Great-Grandma, a lady I never met.

I'd love to know what she'd have thought of her Great-granddaughter's lifestyle. It couldn't have been more different to hers.

Have a ghoulishly spooky night if that's your thing. We'll be padlocking the front gates as soon as darkness falls to keep out any feral youths demanding money with menaces (sweets aren't acceptable around here, it's a £5 note or a brick through the window).

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

It's always an event when the postman knocks, we're on first name terms and everything; it's not just because of the regular parcels of joy from my generous blogging buddies but also 'cos I went out with him in the 1980s.

Last week my bag twin, the lovely Lucy, sent me this incredible turquoise leather coat she'd spotted in her local Sue Ryder chazza along with this Oscar Wilde notelet, literary idol of Smiths fans like me the world over.

The copper and turquoise pendant is Native American via Canada, a gift from a globe-trotting admirer of Mum's in 1965. I bought the earrings on the morning of the Asian Tsunami on the way to a wedding in India back in 2004.

The wonderful Pao sent me these 1960s earrings she no longer wears, they arrived today and I love them, they're massive.

She also sent this groovy bean bag pattern. The cats have hinted that they need one in their lives.

So what's a chip butty? Two slices of crusty bread spread with butter or mayo, a generous helping of "proper" chips (chunky French Fries), smothered in tomato ketchup and the finest hangover cure known to man (or woman).

Jo's over in the UK from the States, reacquainting herself with the delights of British second-hand shopping along with outings to cultural events and vegan gatherings. She's as much fun as her gorgeous smile suggests.

She gave me the dress I wore last night. The label's just as beautiful as the exterior.

She also thought I'd love this groovy velvet blouson top, which I do!

More label porn.

Back round ours for a cup of tea and a house tour.

Yesterday the lovely Liz came from Bristol to visit. Naturally we stopped off for lunch in Wetherspoons, but passed on the faggots.

After a couple of hours trying on the merchandise in Second To None we hit the town's chazzas.

Then went back to ours for tea and a Vix house tour. I bought this dress from Second To None on Friday. I tried it on when I was last in the shop HERE and as it was still there I saw it as a sign I was destined to have it.

Since I last blogged I've consumed a Halloumi cheese wrap with salad and a sweet chilli dressing, Vegetable Madras with steamed rice, poppadums and a cheese & garlic nan, Wetherspoons' five bean chilli with pilau rice and tortillas, six doorstep slices of toast with Marmite, two bowls of soup, four oranges, three chunks of a vegan chocolate brownie (and I don't even have a sweet tooth), two and a half bottles of Rose, a quarter of a bottle of rum and most of the collage above.

Time for a mega blog catch-up, Inspector Montalbano on the i-Player and the obligatory Sunday night chip butty for tea.

Thursday, 25 October 2012

I haven't got a problem with modern clothes, I buy what I like but it just happens to be that 99.9% of the time it's pre-1974. The contemporary stuff I find second-hand usually bores the pants off me.

I couldn't resist snapping up this leather jacket from the jumble sale though, even if I only wear it a handful of times I'm sure to recoup my costs when I sell it on.

I've been feeling the cold more than usual lately and this cashmere and silk fine-knit sweater by L.K. Bennett was a steal, it's warm without looking lumpy and frumpy and even has built in beer mittens, ideal for clutching a pint at the night market later. I can't believe how much this would have cost new. Who pays over £150 for a top and gives it away? (And would they like to adopt me?)

1960s London breakfast tray, set of Mid-century modern party dishes, two suitcases, Ronnie Barker's book of Bathing Belles (did you see Jen's post HERE yesterday?), pair of 1970s tin coasters, pair of two boxed folding picnic tables.

I spotted this quilted waxed jacket and snapped it up, it might be the style beloved of teenagers everywhere but I thought it would do for when Jon's working outside.

I didn't notice the label until I got it home. Maybe it's a bit too posh for crawling under vehicles? Not everyone donates dirty knickers and odd shoes, some people are amazingly generous.

Don't ask me what or why, Jon can't help himself when it comes to old skool music systems.

This is the second time Jon & I have volunteered at the monthly jumble sale, today we've been setting up the church hall, erecting trestle tables, hulking boxes about and sorting out the merchandise ready for the doors to open at 2pm tomorrow.

Whilst it's undeniably exciting to rip open the bags of donations and lay them out on the tables, handling the soiled underwear, bloodstained clothing, filthy bed linen and unwashed crockery isn't for the feint-hearted. (Not that anything tops the dead dog I once found in a donation bag back in the 10 glorious years I worked as a charity shop volunteer).

When you come back with a heap of treasure like this it makes the filth worth it.

In the meantime feast your eyes on this incredible dressmaking pattern and beautiful hand-made card courtesy of the lovely Elizabeth. Can't wait to have a bash at those pants!

You didn't imagine it, my blog title did mention patchwork.

This pair of 1970s vinyl seating cubes came from last month's jumble, I thought they'd perfect for get-togethers but those hideously drab hues are enough to sober up the liveliest of party animals.

A quiet afternoon yesterday meant time for a makeover.

I hand-sewed the groovy new seat pad on top of the old one and this was the result.

The pair of cubes were 50p and the fabric and interfacing were already in my stash so a cheap (and now, cheerful) addition to the house. Fit to grace the bum of my next house guest!

Come back tomorrow and I'll show you what we bought. Right now I need a good scrub under a hot shower.

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I'm Vix, a jumble sale-ing, car-booting, skip-diving, charity shopping, hedonistic hippy chick in love with life, India and vintage clothes.
In my world getting dressed is always an adventure, never a chore. My style is Woodstock refugee meets Rolling Stones groupie with a bit of vintage Bollywood thrown in. I don't follow fashion and if I look ridiculous so what? Not being noticed and blending in with the crowd is my idea of hell.
A day without dressing up is a day wasted.